


No Shovel Talk For Phil Coulson

by lola381pce



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, BAMF Clint Barton, BAMF Natasha Romanov, BAMF Phil Coulson, Bedroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Developing Relationship, M/M, POV Natasha Romanov, Phil Coulson & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Phil Coulson, Secret Relationship, Strike Team Delta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:57:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13715253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lola381pce/pseuds/lola381pce
Summary: How Natasha finds out Clint and Coulson are in a relationship.





	No Shovel Talk For Phil Coulson

Natasha was tired and wired. 

Strike Team Delta had just completed another mission successfully. Well, the mission objectives had been achieved albeit with a lot of gunfire and more than a couple of explosions, thanks to Coulson’s knack for distraction – or perhaps destruction in this case. The three of them were still alive if a little bruised and bloodied. So, yeah. That counted as a success in her book.

Extraction was at least forty-eight hours away meaning they’d be holed up in the safe house until then. At least it was a reasonably decent safe house with a well-stocked kitchen and a couple of bedrooms and, most important of all, a bathroom with a seemingly never-ending supply of hot water. All three of them had managed long, uninterrupted showers before pulling together a fairly decent meal from supplies in the cupboards then flopping down on the couch feeling almost normal again. Whatever normal is for Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Exhausted but too restless to sleep, Natasha crawled out of bed in search of the male contingent of the team. Clint and Coulson had stayed up to watch a DVD from a pretty good collection when she’d headed to bed. She understood their need to unwind, and if watching _Die Hard_ for the millionth time did it for them then fine but she really wasn’t in the mood to bear witness to the pair of them acting out their favourite parts of the movie beside her on the couch. Sometimes the two of them were more like children than children were.

She smiled at the thought of the two men she believed she was lucky to have in her life.

Phil Coulson, senior agent and handler of Strike Team Delta was one of the most intelligent and calmly competent people she knew. Rarely fazed by anything that happened around him, he always had some plan to get them out of whatever dire situation in which they found themselves. She always trusted him to bring them home no matter what. He was also the most incorrigible prankster and such a Captain America fanboy it almost bordered on the obsessive.

Clint Barton, incredible marksman with an intellect not so far away from that of Coulson and a gift for mathematics he kept well-hidden behind that ex-carnie country hick persona he liked to put on for everyone else. He didn’t have reliable plans (his by-the-seat-of-his-pants type notwithstanding) but went with the flow – and where jumping off buildings would take him. He would follow Coulson and her to the ends of the earth and give them his last drop of blood if he had to. But then that was Strike Team Delta in a nutshell.

The only thing she would change about either of them was getting to admit their love for each other. Clint and Coulson had been dancing around each other for years but never quite admitting their feelings. It drove her to distraction. 

Natasha reached the open plan living room/kitchen/dining area to find it empty which left the other bedroom and bathroom. The bathroom was unlikely but if they were still awake perhaps she could cuddle in beside them as she sometimes did until she fell asleep; or Clint became too much of a hot water bottle octopus creature causing her to leave for her own room.

So, the bedroom it was.

She opened the door carefully, just in case they were sleeping. They weren’t. They were awake. Very much awake.

Clint was standing naked beside the double bed facing the door. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly open while his hands gently gripped Coulson’s hair. Coulson was on his knees in front of him, his dress shirt stretched tight across his shoulders, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hands holding onto the back of Clint’s thighs as his head bobbed back and forth with Clint’s cock in his mouth drawing quiet gasps and moans from him as he swallowed him down.

Even though he appeared lost in the feel of Clint’s warm beautiful body in his hands and mouth, Coulson’s senses were so attuned to his environment he became aware of a presence behind him and froze making Clint’s eyes snap open to stare directly into Natasha’s fascinated gaze. Holding Coulson in place by stroking his hair, Clint gave her a shy smile. Natasha’s own grin widened. She gave him an approving nod as she slipped back out closing the door quietly behind her.

Well, well. And just how long had _that_ being going on she wondered as she headed back to her room with a warm feeling in her chest. She couldn’t be happier for them... although it could make sharing a bed together a little more challenging. Or perhaps not. It would depend on how long they’d been keeping this whole thing under wraps. It didn’t cross her mind for an instant that they wouldn’t still welcome her. It didn’t cross her mind for an instant that she should stop wanting to.

She snuggled back under her covers glad there would be no need to give Coulson a shovel talk. She knew he would die before he would ever hurt Clint.

She’d once watched him, albeit in a drug-induced state, argue for an injured Clint and her to be kept together in the same room at S.H.I.E.L.D medical after surgery. He didn’t shout but he didn’t back down either, and the sight of him covered in his own and other people’s blood - hers, Clint’s and whoever he’d torn through to get to them - along with his quiet determination was enough for the head of the unit to agree to Coulson’s request. For the next two days, he spent his time switching between the side of Clint’s bed and the side of hers until they were breathing on their own again and Fury kicked him out for a shower and food.

No. There would be no shovel talk for Phil Coulson.

However, there would be words in the morning once she found out how long they’d kept this development in their relationship from her.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from other than I was driving to work yesterday and it popped into my head. Anyway, hope you enjoy.


End file.
